


Lost in Translation

by jankykang



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 06:40:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20925806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jankykang/pseuds/jankykang
Summary: Elliott tries to confess his feelings to the farmer. And then he tries again. And again.





	Lost in Translation

**Author's Note:**

> hello!! this was inspired by elliott's 10 heart event when he gets tongue-tied, except it's right after his 8 heart event and it goes on for 6k words. we love a melodramatic king
> 
> as a side note i feel like leah and elliott are the kind of friends who call each other things like darling and my love all the time. mlm/wlw solidarity you know how it is

“You look like you belong on a fainting couch.”

Elliott looked down at himself. His limbs were strewn haphazardly across Leah’s bed while he held the back of one hand against his forehead.

“Perhaps I do.”

“Oh, please,” Leah scoffed. “You wouldn’t be moping around like this if anything worth fainting over had happened. You’d be over the moon.”

“…That’s true,” Elliott admitted. He let his hand slide off of his forehead and fall onto the bed, bouncing once before settling heavily on top of the duvet. “Am I moping around?”

Leah shrugged, not looking away from the painting she was currently working on. “A bit.”

“Well, I think I’ve earned it. Nothing came of my grand gesture. I don’t know what else I can do.”

“Grand gesture,” Leah repeated skeptically. “You didn’t _do_ anything.”

“I dedicated my book to him! How is that not doing anything?”

“Okay, it’s not nothing, but it’s also not necessarily something. When you told Xavier it was dedicated to him, how did you say it?”

Elliott thought back to the reading four days ago, but most of what he could remember from that day was his racing heart and shaking fingers as he read his work to his friends and neighbours. He remembered Xavier’s smile afterwards when he told him that the book was dedicated to him, but all the other details were a blur.

“I don’t know. I was so nervous that I can’t remember anything.”

Leah sighed and put her paintbrush down, finally turning to face Elliott. “Okay. Which one of these sounds more like what you said?” She cleared her throat and made a show of adjusting her posture to impersonate Elliott, flicking her braid over her shoulder and clasping her hands together in front of herself. “Was it, ‘oh, by the way, the book is dedicated to you’? Or was it more like, ‘Xavier, I’ve dedicated this book to you because you’ve helped me so much in accomplishing this lifelong goal. You mean the world to me. Please be my boyfriend.’”

Elliott wanted to maintain a deeply unimpressed expression, but couldn’t help cracking a smile at Leah’s impression.

“Have you ever considered taking up acting?”

Leah just smiled and waited for him to answer the question.

“Okay,” Elliott conceded. “I would say it was… somewhere in between the two.”

“Yeah, okay.” Leah picked her brush back up and resumed painting. “Look, I’m not trying to be mean. I just think you need to be more realistic. You can’t rely only on hints if you actually want him to hear what you’re saying. Why don’t you read some romantic poetry for him or something? That seems up your alley, and can easily lead into actually talking about how you feel.”

Elliott squinted at the ceiling. “I can’t just _do _that.”

“What, is romantic poetry more of a third date type of activity?”

“Yes! It is! I would burst into flames if I just did that out of the blue. Or I would simply butcher it. I’d fumble over every word and he would write me off as a fraud.”

“A _fraud_,” Leah muttered.

“A fraud,” Elliott confirmed. “That won’t do.”

“Okay, so you can’t make use of your craft that he respects and supports. Sure. Then just buy him a bouquet. It’ll do all the talking for you without any room for misinterpretation.”

Elliott _had_ already considered a bouquet. He knew it would get the message across, but he felt it was a bit impersonal to let some pre-arranged flowers carry the weight of everything he felt in his heart. Besides, bouquets were a valley tradition, and neither he nor Xavier were actually from the valley. It dampened the emotional impact.

“I don’t know. It doesn’t feel like enough.”

“What does that mean? You’re saying if Xavier knocked on your door to hand you a bouquet, that wouldn’t be enough for you?”

Elliott couldn’t count how many times he had daydreamed that exact scenario—Xavier coming to him in the simplest, most ordinary way was somehow his ideal outcome. He needed to woo, but he didn’t need to _be_ wooed. He sat up and held his head in his hands.

“Okay. Yes. I see your point. I just…” He sighed, heavy and tired. “It never feels like the right moment. And, despite what you may think, I know that chasing perfection is futile. I simply have high standards for myself and I think I can do better than pouring my heart out when I run into him in the town square.”

“Elliott.”

“Yes.”

“This might sound harsh.”

“I came here for your honest opinion. I can handle it.”

“If you don’t just get it together and ask him out soon, I’m going to stop giving you free advice.”

“Ah!” Elliott clutched at his heart, feigning agony. “You could never be so cruel!”

“Try me,” she laughed. “But seriously, it’s useless to wait for the right moment to come along. You know that. You have to choose the moment and then make it happen. Just plan ahead. You can ask him to meet you at a certain time, create your own romantic environment, and figure out whatever else you need. I know it’s hard, but you can’t let a fear of rejection stop you from—”

“Environment,” Elliott blurted. “What day is it?”

Leah stared at him. She said nothing, but her disapproval was clear.

“Ah—I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Everything you said is true, and you are indispensable to me, and you’ve just given me an idea.”

“…Go on.”

“Is the Dance of the Moonlight Jellies tomorrow night?”

Leah looked across the room to the calendar hanging on her wall. “It is.”

Elliott breathed in deeply, clapped his hands together, and stood up. “I’ll do it then. It’s the perfect atmosphere.”

“Will you really do it then, or are you just saying that to placate me?”

“I—” Elliott paused as he actually took a moment to consider the logistics of the festival. “Hm. Maybe not.”

Leah set her brush down in a way that looked like it had suddenly become too heavy for her to hold. “Elliott.”

“The whole town will be there! Would you like it if the mayor overheard your love confessions?”

“Do you plan on shouting it at him? Just pull Xavier away from the crowd for a minute if you have to. You _really_ have a talent for finding problems that don’t exist.”

Elliott grimaced, still not happy with the lack of privacy.

“I don’t make empty threats,” she reminded him.

“I believe that,” he said honestly. Taking a moment to think it over, he came to the conclusion that she was probably right. “…Okay. I’ll do my best tomorrow.”

“Good. Now go home and get some rest so you can be on your A-game at the festival. It’s past midnight already.”

“Yes, coach.” Leah rolled her eyes but didn’t reject the title. “You are my greatest treasure. If you ever need me to listen to your troubles and offer you invaluable advice, I am at your service.”

“I’ll remember that.”

“Excellent!” Elliott grabbed his coat from the hook by the door and braced himself for the chilly walk home. “Goodnight, my love. Don’t stay up too late.”

“I won’t. And come find me if you need a pep talk tomorrow.”

“Oh, I’m certain that I will.”

The next day was both much too long and far too short. Each minute dragged on for days and the twelve hours between Elliott waking up and the festival starting passed by in a second. It was too much time to think, not enough time to plan.

After a particularly stressful pacing session, Elliott sought out Leah’s promised pep talk. It consisted mostly of the same things she had said the night before, along with some extra reassurance that Elliott’s fears were either wildly irrational (“Xavier will not push you into the ocean if you stutter”) or natural (“Nobody _wants_ to be rejected, but it’s better to find out than to wonder about it your whole life”), and the promise that he would survive, regardless of the outcome. It was all very reasonable and not very helpful.

It was the first time a sunset had ever exacerbated Elliott’s nerves. For one brief, maddened moment as the sky darkened, he toyed with the option of bothering Willy for advice. He decided against it in the end, using the excuse that he would probably just get a repeat of what Leah had said, but with a more nautical flavour. He didn’t need to be told that the risk was worth taking, he needed to be told that there was no risk. And since he knew that would have been a lie, he was inconsolable.

Finally, suddenly, it was ten o’clock. Elliott emerged from his shack as he heard voices start to appear, smiling and waving politely to the other villagers as he passed them on his way to his spot on the dock past Willy’s shop. He figured that being tucked away in the corner like this might help with the privacy issue. However, not long after, Clint came along and chose his own spot only a few feet away.

Elliott was conflicted by this. On one hand, Clint was gloomy and gruff, an energy that didn’t exactly lend itself to the romantic mood Elliott had been imagining. On the other hand, Clint didn’t seem like the type to gossip about anything he might overhear. Pros and cons, Elliott supposed.

The chatter around the beach grew louder as the minutes passed and everyone filtered into the area. Xavier always took the time to stop and say hi to everyone at festivals, so Elliott forced himself to be patient, staring out at the endlessly dark sea and waiting to be graced by Xavier’s presence.

He used the time to think about what he was going to say. He had been thinking about it all day with nothing to show for it, but maybe the pressure of crunch time would yield some results.

It didn’t.

Clint grumbled something about his shoes which startled Elliott out of his thoughts, but what was even more startling was that Elliott still didn’t have a plan! He looked over to see Xavier right there on the dock talking to Clint, Elliott clearly being next on the list.

Elliott quickly looked away. His hands started to sweat. His mind went totally blank. He looked back over at the sound of approaching footsteps against the old wooden boards.

“Hey,” Xavier greeted him at last. His smiling face was a blessing, a gift handcrafted by Yoba themself. Elliott didn’t know if he deserved such a gift, but he’d be damned if he were to refuse it.

_Act natural_, was Elliott’s final pleading thought to himself.

“If we keep polluting the oceans, the jellies will surely go extinct. It’s already in the process of happening.”

“Uh—” Xavier’s smile wavered. Elliott went from fearing being pushed into the ocean to longing for it.

“What a shame,” he continued, because he apparently didn’t think he had been enough of a bummer already. His internal screaming grew louder with every word. “We have no respect for nature anymore.”

Xavier just continued staring at Elliott for a few more seconds before looking out to the water. “You’re right. It’s really awful.”

Elliott hadn’t been able to develop a plan, but he knew that if he had, this definitely would not have been a part of it. Lamenting on decaying ecosystems was decidedly _not_ romantic. He needed to salvage this.

“B—But, of course, people like you are doing wonderful things—giving back to the earth and helping it flourish, and shutting down corporations to boot. It may just be my overactive imagination at work, but I think the sky has gotten bluer and the air fresher since you caused the Jojamart here to close.” He was rambling. He needed to stop rambling. “Anyway, how was your day?”

Xavier laughed, effectively turning Elliott’s bones to jelly. “It was nice. I’ve actually been looking forward to tonight for weeks, so I’ve been pretty excited all day.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I remember being so blown away when I first saw them last year—just how… magical it all felt. I want to feel that again.”

Elliott actually managed to relax slightly as Xavier spoke. It was something in his voice—either an innate quality or simply something Elliott had come to associate over time with a feeling of gentle happiness. He suddenly felt a need to write a whole anthology of poems. “I… hope you will.”

Xavier smiled, once again wiping Elliott’s brain clean of all thoughts. “I’m gonna go tell Lewis to send the boat out. I’ll be right back.”

The words sunk in slowly as Xavier walked away. He would be right back… meaning he planned on watching the jellies with Elliott? How cruel of him, to not even give Elliott the excuse of “I couldn’t tell him because he was deep in conversation with other people on the opposite side of the beach all night.”

Excitement and fear tangled confusingly in Elliott’s stomach, blending into some kind of vague anticipatory soup that bubbled threateningly as he watched the raft float outwards with its solitary candle.

Elliott’s fingers were fidgeting in his pockets when Xavier returned to stand by his side. Neither of them said anything, nor did anyone else on the beach. All was quiet but for the sound of the waves as everyone waited for the first jellies to appear.

In his peripheral vision, Elliott saw someone’s arm fly up, pointing seaward. Sure enough, when he looked there was a glowing blue spot in the water. Hushed voices began to break the silence as more and more jellies emerged, and isolated spots multiplied into a vast field of bioluminescence.

Elliott glanced at Xavier. He was staring out at the water, looking totally transfixed, and Elliott couldn’t help but smile. He looked lovely like this, so completely awed.

Maybe, Elliott thought, simply looking at Xavier would generate enough inspiration for him to be able to confess his feelings. Maybe this wouldn’t be so hard after all.

He wouldn’t do it yet, though. He would wait until the initial wave of excitement from seeing the jellies wore off a little bit. He didn’t want to interrupt the magic.

Just then, something in the water caught Elliott’s eye. It was a jelly, naturally, but it stood out from the others in that it glowed green instead of blue. It was also drifting unusually close to the dock.

“Look at that one,” Elliott whispered to Xavier, pointing to the green jelly.

“Oh, wow,” Xavier breathed before stepping closer to the edge of the dock and crouching down to get a better look at it.

“Be careful,” said Elliott. “Don’t fall in.”

Xavier laughed lightly, still staring down at the green jelly. “I won’t fall in. Look, it stopped moving.”

Elliott frowned and peered over the edge of the dock. Xavier was right—the green jelly was hanging in place right in front of them while its blue brethren continued to float past.

“It likes you,” Elliott half-joked. He was fairly certain there was no way that a jellyfish could have known it was picking Xavier out of a beach full of people, but he still felt a strange kind of kinship with it. He acknowledged that it had good taste, or something like that. He could work out the details later when he would inevitably write about it.

“I like it back,” Xavier said quietly. Then, he held his hand out towards Elliott. “Help me up.”

Elliott nearly stumbled over his own feet in his haste to step closer and take Xavier’s hand. He helped pull him up and they both took a step back from the edge. Neither of them let go.

Elliott couldn’t differentiate between panic and exhilaration. They were… holding hands? But why? Was there a twist coming? Elliott was sure there was, but in the meantime he kept his hand perfectly still, neither tightening nor loosening his grip in a baseless attempt to prolong whatever it was that was happening. As if adjusting his hand would remind Xavier that they were still touching, and that he would then put an end to it.

“Do you want to sit down?” Xavier asked, looking behind them at the wooden bench on the dock. Elliott nodded, feeling too giddy to speak.

They were still holding hands when they sat down, and Elliott’s brain was still frustratingly fixated on that point. Trying both to distract himself from and hide the fact that he had had a day-long internal crisis that was still ongoing, he asked, “Is it as good as you remember?”

Xavier nodded, the movement causing the old planks in the bench to creak. “It is. Better, maybe.”

“Better?”

“Yeah. I think because this time last year I was still ‘the new guy’, you know? And now I actually feel like I’m a part of the community instead of like, a tourist.” He waved his free arm. “I _know_ all these people, and I get to watch something beautiful with them. It’s—I don’t know. It just feels nice.”

Elliott’s heart swelled as he listened to Xavier speak. Both instinctively and out of sheer admiration, he squeezed his hand, not even realizing he did it until Xavier squeezed back.

This was it. Between the moonlight and the jellies’ glow, the scenery was perfect. Elliott had Xavier’s attention. They were _holding hands_. If this wasn’t a sign from a higher power, Elliott didn’t know what was. He was going to tell Xavier how he felt and he was going to do it now.

“Xavier, we—” He stopped abruptly, shocked to discover that the right words weren’t queued up and ready to go. It seemed like he would have to put more faith in his improvisational skills. “Uh—I mean, you’re… you are…” This was going horribly. Why was this so hard? Why couldn’t he just spit it out? He opened his mouth to try again, but the wind picked up a little and Xavier visibly shivered. Concern suddenly replaced Elliott’s foremost thoughts. “Are you cold?”

“Oh, uh. Yeah, a bit.”

Okay. Elliott knew this one. He wasn’t so hopeless that he couldn’t fulfill such a classic trope—this was child’s play. He let go of Xavier’s hand and started to unbutton his coat.

“Oh—No, wait, don’t give me your coat,” Xavier said just as Elliott began to pull his arms out of the sleeves. “Then _you’ll_ get cold.” Elliott was ready to insist, but Xavier had already reached over to pull the coat back into place on his shoulders before he could say anything.

All of Elliott’s newfound resolve crumbled down around him after that refusal. He looked down at his hand. It was now missing Xavier’s, and for nothing. He didn’t know if he had it in him to take it back. It had felt like a completely random occurrence, like if all the proper circumstances weren’t perfectly in place, then it wouldn’t happen at all. Holding Xavier’s hand again was a fantasy unobtainable so long as Elliott couldn’t manually align the stars.

“Just share some warmth with me,” Xavier said, snapping Elliott’s mind back to the present. The bench groaned as Xavier moved closer to Elliott, close enough to rest his head on his shoulder.

…Ah.

“…Take as much as you need.”

The glowing spots began to dwindle as the jellies moved on, resuming their migration. People began to head home in small groups as the effect wore off and they realized what time it was. Elliott remained on the bench with Xavier leaning on him, prepared to stay out all night like this if he could.

Growing increasingly worried that seeing other people leaving the beach would prompt Xavier to do the same, Elliott figured he should offer some incentive to stay a bit longer.

“Are you looking forward to the new season?”

Small talk was manageable for now. He could figure out how to turn it into a love confession somewhere along the way.

“I don’t know, I’m gonna miss the fresh blueberries. I bet you’re excited, though.”

“Me?” Elliott wouldn’t have said that he had any strong feelings about the changing seasons. “Why is that?”

“Didn’t I tell you? I planted a pomegranate sapling. They’ll be in season.”

Elliott gasped despite himself, genuinely delighted by this news.

“Sorry,” Xavier laughed, sending vibrations into Elliott’s shoulder. “I guess I forgot to mention it. I was a little late planting it though, so it won’t be bearing fruit for another week, probably. I’ll bring you some as soon as they’re ripe.”

“You spoil me.”

“Your birthday is soon, too. I hope they’ll be growing by then.”

“Oh, please don’t feel obligated to do anything for my birthday.”

“What?” Xavier moved to look at Elliott with an exaggerated look of shock on his face. “Of course I’m obligated! We never even got to celebrate your book being finished. We’ll have a combination book-finishing and birthday party.”

“Well… How could I say no to that?”

“You couldn’t.” Xavier smiled up at him, wide and pure, and Elliott was floored by another rush of emotion.

Elliott’s fingers twitched and he quickly made up his mind to give into the desire to take Xavier’s hand again. From there, saying what he needed to say would feel natural. It would be easy, even. How could he have kept this to himself for so long? How had all of the thoughts and feelings and hopes and dreams not burst through yet, like how his heart was close to bursting through his chest now? Elliott lifted his hand and—

“Well, the longer I stay out here, the harder it’ll be to get up in the morning.” Xavier leaned forward on the bench and got to his feet before Elliott could even process what he had said. “And I’m gonna have a busy day tomorrow, so I should probably get going.”

Elliott made a sound he wasn’t proud of. It was the sound of rising words being squeezed into a condensed gibberish in his throat and still managing to slip out of his mouth. He quickly recovered and followed Xavier’s lead.

“R—Right,” he managed as he stood up. “Don’t lose sleep because of me.”

This was ridiculous. Higher powers weren’t handing out signs, they were dangling them on strings and tearing them away right when they came into reach. He wondered if he should just confess in the time it took to walk to his cabin and get it over with, romance be damned.

He didn’t.

“Well, have a good night,” Xavier said once they had crossed the beach.

Some tired, frustrated part of Elliott’s brain managed to accomplish right then what he hadn’t been able to all day: it came up with and committed to a plan.

“Will you come see me some time tomorrow afternoon? Whenever you have a break. There’s something I want to… discuss with you.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. Sure. Is everything okay?”

“Yes, it’s just, um. Well. I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Xavier sounded confused, and Elliott didn’t blame him for that. He wasn’t usually one to be so cryptic, but these were desperate times.

After saying quick goodnights, Xavier went on his way and Elliott made it into his cabin before collapsing heavily onto his bed.

Leah would not be pleased.

The next morning, Elliott forced himself to get up early and walk to Pierre’s, arriving before the shop was open. His goal was to be in and out as quickly as possible to minimize the risk of bumping into Xavier—Elliott knew he would be coming by to buy seeds and just hoped he wouldn’t be caught in the act.

This was the brilliant plan he had come up with last night: giving Xavier a bouquet. He wished that it didn’t have to come to this, but what he wished for even more was to make up for his failure. A bouquet was efficient and unmistakable. Romance and tenderness and personalized gifts and sonnets could come later, if they were to come at all. For now, he just needed something that would tell Xavier what he needed to know, because Elliott clearly wasn’t capable of doing that with words.

Elliott waited awkwardly in front of the doors until Pierre came to unlock them.

“Oh—Hi, Elliott,” Pierre said, surprised to see him waiting outside so early.

“Good morning. May I come in?”

“Of course.” Pierre held the door open as Elliott came inside. “This isn’t your usual shopping day—need something specific?”

“Yes, actually. I…” Even though Elliott knew he was the only customer in the store on account of the doors being locked up until ten seconds ago, he still took a second to scan the vicinity and make sure no one was listening in on the conversation. “I’d like to buy a bouquet.”

“A bouquet!” Pierre echoed in a markedly less discrete tone. “Well sure, come on up.” Elliott followed him to the counter at the back of the room, already getting his money ready to make this as quick of a transaction as possible.

“How’s this one look?” Pierre asked as he took a bouquet down from the wall and held it towards Elliott.

“It’s perfect. I’ll take it.”

As soon as Elliott took the bouquet, the shop door swung open behind him.

“Farmer Xavier!” Pierre called jovially over Elliott’s shoulder.

“Morning!” Came Xavier’s voice, sending a jolt of panic through Elliott’s body.

He couldn’t let Xavier see what he was doing here. Even if Elliott had resigned himself to presenting a bouquet, he could still do better than doing so in the general store. So, he did the only thing that made sense to him in the moment: he threw the bouquet to the floor behind the counter before Xavier could see it.

Pierre flinched as the bouquet bounced and fell apart on the floor, flowers rolling out everywhere. Elliott met his gaze and sympathized with the shock it held, but couldn’t feel any remorse just yet.

“Hey, Elliott,” Xavier said as he approached the counter. It didn’t seem like he had noticed anything odd. “What are you doing here? Don’t you usually get groceries on Thursdays?”

Elliott hesitated to answer as he wondered if getting groceries on a different day than usual was really such a noteworthy event. “I thought I’d… spice things up,” he eventually answered lamely.

Xavier laughed, then turned to Pierre. “Alright. I’ve got a big list of—Oh, what happened there?”

As Xavier was speaking to Pierre, he had leaned into the counter far enough to notice the bouquet strewn across the floor. Elliott was aware that this was his own grave that he had dug, but he wasn’t ready to lie in it. He shot Pierre a pleading look, and Pierre seemed to piece everything together between the bouquet, Xavier’s arrival, and Elliott’s odd behaviour.

“I was just rearranging the shelves earlier and accidentally knocked that down,” Pierre lied, much to Elliott’s relief. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll clean it up later. Now, let me entice you with these new artichoke seeds I’ve got in stock…”

With a deep feeling of gratitude, Elliott left to go pretend to browse the produce before he could make an even bigger fool of himself. He half-listened to Xavier make small talk as Pierre filled bags of seeds for him, and several minutes later, Xavier appeared next to him again.

“Hey,” he said, and Elliott realized suddenly that he had done a poor job of committing to the fake-shopping act, considering how he hadn’t picked up a single thing. He reached out to grab an ear of corn, pretending to examine it while Xavier continued, “I know you said afternoon, but do you want to talk about whatever it is now? Since we’re both here, and all.”

“Uh—” Elliott already knew that that was not possible. “No. Now won’t do.”

“Alright, well, it’ll take me a few hours to get through everything on the farm. Should I just come by your place when I’m done?”

“Yes. Please do that.”

“Okay.” Xavier glanced at the door, hesitated, then asked, “Are you sure everything’s okay? You seem… weird.”

“Weird?” Elliott thought that was probably an intentional understatement for the sake of politeness, but he didn’t need to say that out loud. He forced a smile. “It’s nothing you need to worry about, I promise.”

Xavier still didn’t look convinced, but thankfully didn’t press the topic. “Okay. I’ll see you later, then.”

Once Xavier had left the store, Elliott put the corn back into its bin and hurried back over to Pierre, who peered over his glasses at him in a way that was both amused and judgmental.

“I am so sorry about that,” Elliott blurted immediately. “I—I’ll still pay for that one,” he gestured to the exploded bouquet on the floor, “but I’ll also take another, ah, clean and intact one.”

Elliott paid for both bouquets, thanked Pierre and apologized again for the trouble, and only looked nervously over his shoulder once. With this step finally crossed off the list, he headed home with the good bouquet tucked carefully beneath his jacket.

Back at his cabin, Elliott set the bouquet down on his desk and stared at it, turning away after a little while when it started to feel like it was taunting him.

Now that he was in the safety of his home and the adrenaline of his expedition had worn off, Elliott yawned. He had only gotten up a couple hours earlier than usual, but even such a small change in routine could apparently have a considerable effect. Figuring he needed to be in his best shape if he wanted things to go smoothly this afternoon, he decided to lie down and catch up on those hours that he had missed.

Admittedly, he wasn’t sure at first that his nerves would allow him to fall asleep. But, now that he had a bouquet, the road to confessing his feelings had become a clear path. He had nothing more to do but put on a brave face and await his fate. And so, he managed to close his eyes and drift off.

…

…

…

_Knock knock_

…

“Elliott?”

Elliott opened his eyes and rolled onto his back, feeling extremely disoriented. What time was it? What _day_ was it? He sat up slowly and rubbed his eyes. When he remembered what was on his to-do list for the day, his heart jumped.

“Hello?”

Hearing the voice coming from outside his door, Elliott’s heart jumped two more times, leading into a backflip.

That was Xavier’s voice. Was that why Elliott had just woken up? How long had he been waiting out there? Panic, Elliott’s newly familiar friend, raced in.

“H—Hi, yes.” Elliott called back as he jumped out of his bed. “Just—Just a moment!” He nearly tripped on his way to the door, but hesitated once he got there with his hand resting on the doorknob.

He hadn’t even had time to brush his hair after getting up. This was the worst possible scenario.

Steeling himself, he opened the door.

“Hey,” Xavier greeted him cheerfully. “What took you so long? Were you in a writing frenzy?”

Elliott laughed uncomfortably. “No, sorry, I was just… I suppose I just didn’t hear you at first.”

Xavier gave him a weird look. Looking at him, Elliott noticed that he had changed his clothes before coming here. His hair was messy and he still had dirt under his fingernails, but his clean shirt and jeans showed no signs of a morning spent plowing fields and planting crops.

“Um,” said Xavier. “Are you gonna let me in?” Elliott thought that he sounded a little nervous, but he was probably just projecting.

“Of course.” Elliott hastily stepped aside and Xavier came in, closing the door behind him.

Elliott wiggled his fingers. He felt like he should be holding something.

“So, what’s—” Xavier cut himself off with a soft gasp.

Elliott followed his gaze and realized what his hands were supposed to be holding. Xavier had noticed the bouquet on the desk immediately, because it was the brightest and most colourful thing in the room, and Elliott had just left it there in plain sight because he had no forethought.

“Oh.” Elliott couldn’t move. All he could do was look back and forth wildly between Xavier and the bouquet.

“Is that—Did someone give that to you?”

“…No.”

“You’re going to give it to someone?”

Having completely lost the ability to speak, Elliott nodded.

“Oh! W—Wow! That’s why you’ve been acting weird, huh?”

Okay. They were getting somewhere. Slowly but surely, Xavier was going to under—

“So, you, like, want my advice? For when you give it to them?”

On the verge of hysterics, Elliott remembered how to walk and marched over to the desk. He grabbed the bouquet and held it out in front of him towards Xavier.

“Uh.” Xavier looked confused. “Yeah, it looks nice.”

Elliott was seconds from falling to his knees. “It’s for you,” he finally managed with an incredible amount of effort. “I’m giving it to you.”

Xavier’s eyes were suddenly wide. On top of being confused, he now looked shocked and disbelieving.

“Me,” he said uncertainly, as if to confirm it.

“You.” Elliott’s heartrate was accelerating at a dangerous pace. “Because I. Have. Feelings… For you.” It was such an unoriginal, uninspired phrase that Elliott would have grimaced at himself if it hadn’t taken all he had just to get the words out.

Xavier’s expression didn’t change, and his voice was weak. “…You do?”

“Yes.” Elliott wondered what it would feel like to be at the bottom of the ocean.

“…Huh. I really… I really didn’t think you did.”

The bouquet was starting to feel very heavy in Elliott’s hands. “…Pardon?”

“I mean—” Xavier laughed, his face starting to relax. “Because of last night. You didn’t really seem to… react to any of it.”

“…Any of what?”

“Elliott.” Xavier was fully smiling now. “I straight-up held your hand and snuggled into you for like, twenty minutes. I was worried you were acting weird because you _didn’t_ like me like that.”

“I—” Elliott was at a loss for words, but that seemed to be par for the course by now. He suddenly felt like a massive hypocrite for having complained to Leah that Xavier hadn’t picked up on his book dedication hint.

Elliott stood there with his mouth hanging open for a few more seconds before Xavier seemed to remember what was happening.

“Oh, right,” he said as he moved to take the bouquet from Elliott. “Yes, I’m accepting this. I’m—Yeah. Yes.” He laughed, bright and quick, then leapt forward to wrap his arms around Elliott’s middle and hide his face in his shoulder.

Elliott returned the hug right away, and all the stress that had been building up inside of him for the past few days finally started to melt away. He still couldn’t say anything, but for a different reason now.

“Mm.” Xavier pulled away slightly after a few seconds. “No offense, and I’m really not complaining at _all_ about any of this, but I think I would’ve expected something more… I don’t know, flowery, from you. Or like, coherent at least.”

Elliott laughed and hugged Xavier tighter. “I know. I promise I’ll make up for it.”

Xavier smiled, and it was the brightest thing Elliott had ever seen, but it turned puzzled when he moved one arm back to admire the bouquet.

“…Are these the flowers that were on the floor earlier?”


End file.
